I Wrote This For You
by xliterati
Summary: A series of NON-connecting Bamon drabbles.
1. Chaos

Damon doesn't know when it happens.

All he can remember is the way her tiny hand feels in the palm of his own (_like a life fleeting from his grasp and he wants to hold onto her embarking light with a crushing grip_). He remembers the way her eyes looked into his own at the first sign of life returning (_cat eyes blinking slowly from a haze, drinking in every detail of their reality_).

It is days later he realizes he's been infected. It always starts the same; always a slow building infliction that attacks when he least expects it.

He's in the middle of fixing his drink when he hears her distant voice. And then he feels it. Like a compulsion he cannot be rid of, it sets fire to his ice cold skin and it's a burn he knows all too well (_it's Katherine's kisses and Elena's smiles_). But the reason for his blazing skin is a slight girl standing in the frame of his foyer, holding a book that looks to be twice her size. Her mouth set in a straight line, he can see she's talking to Stefan and he feels a familiar pang in his chest (_but Bonnie's not a doppelgänger and Damon's not so sure he likes this sudden infliction of 'care'_).

Damon's too taken aback to speak, and Bonnie nods her head in his direction formally. (_She is all civility until you offend her_) He's not sure if he wants for her to blast him with pain, or throw a curse his way, but he just needs an acknowledgement that is more than a stiff movement of her head.

He needs.

_Needs_.

Damon's head spins and his drink falls from his hand. It's starting again; a slow spiral that is a descent into a madness he can't climb out of.

Bonnie flips open her spell book, unaware that a blue eyed devil will pull her down with his already drowning weight.


	2. Drowning

**Drowning.**

It feels akin to suffocating. It's like a pressure you can't control, pushing you down and constricting your lungs.

It's what Damon feels when he's around Bonnie.

Sometimes its dull, like a pressure he can hold back with just enough power of sheer will. And other times, like now, when the sun is shining just right and Bonnie's hair glows an ethereal brown, Damon doesn't think he can stop himself from-

But he does.

(_Maybe just an inch closer and his hands would be in her soft hair, and he could make her scream in ways she never knew she could_)

"Look I don't have all day," her voice cuts through his submerged state (_it's like a hand pulling him out from under the feverish current_).

Damon can only muster an imperceptible nod and Bonnie turns her back to him to continue reading through the pile of papers before her. Damon takes her in, drinking in the sight of her; she's humming softly, tapping her foot in beat to her own sound. He turns back to his own pile and feigns interest in words that hold no meaning over him.

What he wants is to push aside the papers on her table and to pull her from her chair and throw her across the bare wood (_papers flying in slow motion around them; it's chaos, but that's exactly what they are_). He wants to push aside the slit of her skirt and kiss her throat until it's peppered red from his bruised lips. He wants to feel her warmth as he rocks against her,_ inside_ her. He wants naked skin, and rushed breaths, and gripping hands. He wants to drown in her scent as moans rip from her throat.

He wants and wants and _wants_.

"Damon pay attention!"


	3. Losing You, Losing Me

"Bonnie?"

His voice is so quiet she doesn't think she's heard him correctly. But then he's looking straight at her and she knows she hasn't misplaced his voice. It's him. And he can _see _her.

She crouches down next to him and he's staring at her through his dazed eyes.

"Damon, how can you see me?"

He laughs but it comes out as a horrid sound and she sees his eyes roll back into his head for a split second. His skin is caked in sweat and it looks paler than usual.

"You'd think swallowing an entire bottle of poison would help some more."

Bonnie looks over at the bottle of bourbon by his side. She knows she can't lift it so she bends down and she can smell it.

Vervain.

"Damon? Damon did you just drink an entire bottle of vervain laced alcohol?!"

She's furious and she's glowing, but she's here and he can see her. He feels light headed and she's starting to fade and he knows his immortality is kicking in again. He takes another swing of the bourbon, downing the last quarter of the bottle.

"Damon stop it!"

"No," his tired voice chokes out.

Unbelievable. He has the nerve to smile at her as he's dying from blood poisoning.

"God you're really here aren't you?"

He sounds like a child on Christmas morning and Bonnie finds she can't look him straight in the eye.

"No don't do that. Look at me, _god_ little bird. _Please_ look at me."

His voice is raw and scratched from the poison that traveled down his throat. He looks at her like she is light personified, as though her being here is curing him of all demons.

So she lifts her tear stained eyes and he smiles softly at her. He doesn't touch her. Knows that he can't, but seeing her is enough. Knowing that she is here, with him even if he can't always see her, is so much more than he could ever ask for.

"May I ask why the suicide attempt?"

She sounds sad and he doesn't want her to be sad.

"To see you. It was the only way for me to _know_."

She shakes her head and then whispers, "You knew I was here, you just wanted to prove yourself right you prick."

"I'm going to bring you back."

Bonnie laughs and then feels the overwhelming urge to lay her head on his chest. To feel the unnecessary rise of it, and to hear the silence of his heart.

"You're going to leave me dead if you know what's good for you."

_No. What's good for me has always been you._

He laughs sardonically and musters a small shake of his head.

"Stupid vampire."

"Stubborn witch."

"Promise me you won't nearly kill yourself again."

"No can do judgy. You're my latest fix. And you know what they say about addicts," he trailed off.

"Damon this isn't a joke!"

"I'm not going to stop, because I can't die of this pathetic shit. But I need to see you and you can't rob me of that do you understand?"

Bonnie's throat clenches up and she looks away.

"Why can't you just leave me here?! Everyone else has."

Damon snorts and Bonnie wishes she could give him a brain aneurysm.

"You and I both know that I am _not_ like everyone else."

There is silence as Bonnie takes in his words.

"What do you need me for anyway?"

"Everyone in this stupid town _needs_ you. I don't. I _want_ you here."

Bonnie can see him slipping away into unconsciousness and she feels her heart soar from his words.

"Stay with me," he whispers.

And she finds, that more than anything, she _wants _too.

When he wakes up the next afternoon Damon's eyes search for her ghost, and then just as he's leaving the room he feels the coldest brush on his arm.

His smile, Bonnie thinks, could make the sun cry from envy.


	4. Beauty and the Beast

It was a sunny afternoon. No harsh winter air, no smouldering heat to thicken inside her lungs. There was a slight breeze; it tangled in Bonnie's hair as she walked into the forest. She was dressed to perfection, after all Caroline's little bonfire would not allow for anything less than a sultry outfit designed to get Bonnie precisely the attention she deserved.

_The wolf hides in plain sight Bonnie, you need to be on your toes at all times._

But Bonnie's white dress wasn't sultry. It was strapless but modest, and in the taste of her grandmother's vintage mind. Her hair was slightly waved, and it was longer than she usually kept it. As Bonnie neared a lea in the woods she could hear the distant noise of cheering, and she smiled to herself.

As she stepped out of the thicket of the woods and into the clearing, Bonnie's boot accidentally stepped on a branch and the snap of it breaking in half sent a shiver down her spine.

* * *

It wasn't that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever beheld, but try as he might Damon could not deny himself the magic of her. Something about the way the world bent around her, as if she belonged to it but was worshipped by it. He could hear the wind playing in her hair, the small sound of her hair falling behind her shoulder, the soft intake of her breath as she moved, the sound of her thighs softly moving against each other.

It was when he saw her he lost all sense.

Beauty sheathed in pure goddess white. Her caramel skin glowed in the sunlight, and her dark hair fell in hypnotic waves at her back.

What would it be like to trace her skin in the morning light? To feel the soft tickle of her hair on his chest? What would it be like to have her yield, to submit, to fall slowly enough to belong to him?

Maybe it was in the way she moved. Her confident strides would throw a man off, but her wandering oblivious eyes were what drew him in.

_Get away from me Damon. If you ever come near me again I'll kill you, I don't care what Stefan or Elena have to say._

It was his mistake he knows this now; to have spent so much time in her presence but to not have known her. He fell in false loves when she was there all along. He closed his eyes and was catapulted to the night two weeks ago, when he had come to her begging and pleading.

_I'll love you. You know I will. I'll never let anything hurt you and I-_

She had silenced him with a piercing pain to his insides.

_I, I, I! It's all about you isn't it Damon? What do you NOT understand? I don't want anything to do with you. Ever. _

When she had left him in the aching cold, alone and distraught, he'd thought carefully of how to proceed from there. He would leave her alone for now, bide his time waiting for her. If Hades could wait a couple of months for Persephone every year for an eternity, then a few days for Damon shouldn't be a problem.

And now here it was, the right time, the perfect time.

He'd convince her of his love, he'd show her the world and he'd make her believe she belongs to him, belongs _with_him.

She could hate him all she wanted; he'd have an eternity to make her love him.

* * *

Before her foot could even step into the clear unfiltered sunlight of the lea, Bonnie's arm was in scorching pain and she could feel her limb twist behind her back. A bruising grip held her there and then she felt the sharpest pain on her neck. In an instant she was falling, her eyes rolling back, her limbs detaching from her mind, she was fallingfallingfalling.

And as she fell she heard, "Shhh little bird, I've got you."

* * *

She woke up in a bed. Her eyes felt heavy, and her neck sent pain shooting through her body as she moved. Bonnie wasn't restrained and it scared her more. She felt her skin, no abrasions save for a small bruise where she had been grabbed. She was still wearing the same dress. Bonnie's heart was beating so fast it felt like a storm in her chest. She moved out of the bed, trying to scan for any sign of anyone or anything but found nothing. As she stood up her disoriented mind betrayed her body and she swayed falling forward.

But she never hit the ground.

Someone had caught her, one arm around her waist.

She would've screamed but she couldn't feel her mouth. She was being lifted now and was placed back into the bed.

The man would not look at her as he put the comforter over her body.

And then he did. Ever so slowly he lifted his head.

_Damon._

She wanted to scream, she wanted to claw at his face and throw him against the wall, she wanted so much to unleash upon perpetual agony, but all she could say was his name.

"Damon?" a small question.

_Why would you do this to me? How could you do this to me? Let me go Damon please let me go. I'll kill you if you don't let me out, I'll destroy you. HOW COULD YOU?!_

Words she couldn't say but she know he could hear her all the same.

"You'll understand soon, I promise."

His cold lips met her cheek, and then he was gone.


End file.
